Myra's heart raced as if it were trying to tear its way out of her chest.
Fear clawed at her throat sharp, merciless.
She knew it.
Whatever truth waited on the other side of Rajeshwari's silence was not something she would survive unchanged. Either it would hollow her… or kill something inside her forever.
Her fingers trembled as she clutched the edge of the bed.
With shallow breaths and a courage that felt borrowed, she whispered,
"Maa… tell me the truth. Whatever it is."
Rajeshwari stiffened.
Her eyes widened not in hesitation, but in shock. Real fear.
"Are you sure?" she asked quietly.
"Because once you hear this, Myra… you will not be able to return to who you were."
Tears slid down Myra's face silently, her lips quivering.
"Please, Maa," she begged.
"I can't live like this. Please."
Rajeshwari closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, they held grief older than years.
"Listen carefully," she said, her voice breaking despite her control.
"The hand you saw in your memories… the one holding the fire…"
Myra's breath stopped.
"That hand was yours."
Time shattered.
"It was not Ranvijay," Rajeshwari continued, every word slicing deeper.
"He never lit that fire. You were a child. You were scared. You didn't understand what you were holding."
Myra didn't blink.
"It was an accident," Rajeshwari whispered.
"And that fire… that fire took your mother's life."
Something inside Myra collapsed.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
It simply… ceased.
Her eyes stayed open, lifeless.
No tears.
No scream.
Her world didn't break.
It vanished.
She sat there like a hollow shell breathing, but not alive.
Elsewhere Blood Paid for Silence
Ranvijay had just straightened when the first gunshot echoed.
The bullet tore into him just inches away from his heart.
His body jerked.
Blood bloomed across his chest.
Before he could fully process the pain
Another shot rang out.
His legs gave way.
He fell to his knees, breath strangled, vision blurring.
That was when Shiv entered.
No hesitation.
No words.
One precise shot.
Aditya fell instantly, a bullet through his head dead on the spot.
The chaos froze.
Ranvijay collapsed completely, his body hitting the ground as blood pooled beneath him.
"Bhai" Shiv shouted, rushing forward.
Ranvijay's eyes fluttered.
The last thing he thought of
Did she learn the truth?
Then darkness took him.
Aftermath
Sirens wailed through the night as Ranvijay was rushed to the hospital, his condition critical.
And miles away
Myra sat frozen.
A woman who had just learned that the man she called a murderer had spent his life protecting her from the truth
That she was the truth.
Shiv arrived at the palace like a storm that didn't shout
it destroyed in silence.
His clothes were stained with blood that wasn't his.
"Bhabhi…" his voice broke as he stood before Myra.
"Bhai was shot. His condition is serious."
The words echoed but they didn't reach her.
Serious.
Shot.
Ranvijay.
The house erupted into chaos.
Voices overlapped. Footsteps rushed. Orders were shouted.
But Myra didn't move.
She stood there still, hollow like a soul that had already left its body.
Rajeshwari let out a cry that tore through the palace. She clutched her chest as if the pain had physically struck her, tears streaming uncontrollably as she was supported by the staff.
Anika turned toward Myra.
Her eyes were red, swollen, terrified.
"Bhabhi…" she whispered, standing beside her, tears slipping down her cheeks.
She wanted to hold her. Comfort her. Say something.
But Myra looked like glass one touch and she would shatter.
Hospital
Bright lights.
The smell of antiseptic.
Beeping machines.
Ranvijay was rushed past them on a stretcher, unconscious, blood-soaked bandages wrapped around his chest.
Myra saw him.
And something inside her cracked but still didn't break.
She followed them mechanically, her feet moving without her will.
They stopped outside the ICU.
Glass separated her from him now.
A thin, cruel sheet of transparency.
Myra stood in front of the small glass window.
Inside, Ranvijay lay motionless tubes, wires, machines keeping him alive. His face was pale, too still. The man who once bent the world to his will now lay defeated by it.
She didn't cry.
She didn't blink.
She just stared.
As if her soul had frozen at the exact moment she learned the truth.
Behind her, Rajeshwari collapsed into a chair, sobbing openly—her cries filled with prayers, guilt, and fear. A mother begging fate to spare her son.
Anika stood close to Myra, tears silently falling, her hands clasped together like a prayer that didn't know who to ask for mercy.
Myra didn't hear any of it.
Her reflection stared back at her from the glass
empty eyes, pale face, lips trembling but silent.
You bled for me, she thought faintly.
You hid the truth for me.
And I put a gun in your face.
Her fingers slowly pressed against the glass.
Just once.
But Ranvijay didn't move.
And for the first time, fear finally reached her heart.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just a quiet terror
What if it's too late?
The ICU doors slid open.
Every breath in the corridor stopped.
The doctor stepped out, his expression grave, professional—but his eyes carried the weight of bad news.
"We've removed the bullets," he said carefully. "But the damage was severe. One missed his heart by a fraction. He lost a lot of blood."
Rajeshwari stood up abruptly, her hands trembling.
"Doctor… my son?"
The doctor hesitated for half a second too long.
"His condition is critical," he continued. "The next twenty-four hours are extremely important. We've done everything medically possible. Now… it depends on him."
Depends on him.
The words struck Myra like a death sentence.
Rajeshwari broke down completely, sobbing into Anika's shoulder. Shiv lowered his head, fists clenched, jaw tight silent, furious at a fate he couldn't shoot.
And Myra
Myra felt the world collapse.
Her legs gave up.
She stumbled forward, past the doctor, past the voices, past the crying straight toward the glass.
Inside the ICU, Ranvijay lay unconscious.
So still.
So quiet.
The man who once filled every space with his presence now lay surrounded by machines, as if the world itself was struggling to keep him alive.
Myra pressed her forehead against the glass.
Her body shook.
"I did this…" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"I did this to you…"
Her tears fell freely now, soaking her lashes, her cheeks, her soul.
"I pointed a gun at you," she sobbed.
"I called you a murderer. I hated you for something I did myself…"
Her hands slid down the glass as she sank to her knees.
"I don't deserve to breathe when you're lying there like this," she cried.
"I don't deserve to live in a world where you might not wake up."
She choked on her own sobs, clutching her chest as if her heart was being ripped apart.
"Please…" she begged, voice breaking, "wake up."
Her palm pressed against the glass, right where his heart was.
"Kill me," she whispered desperately.
"Kill me when you wake up. Punish me. Hate me. Do anything—but don't leave."
Her shoulders shook violently.
"I was wrong… about everything," she cried.
"I was blind. I was cruel. I broke you when you were trying to protect me."
Her voice dropped to a whisper, fragile and shattered.
"I shouldn't be alive," she sobbed.
"I'm the one who should've died that day… not my mother… not you…"
She slid fully to the floor now, forehead resting against the cold glass, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Please, Ranvijay…"
"Wake up."
Behind her, Rajeshwari cried silently, watching the woman her son loved destroy herself piece by piece.
Anika covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face.
And inside the ICU, machines continued to beep
the only proof that Ranvijay was still fighting.